


ode to commerce

by Anonymous



Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), Creampie, F/F, Just gals bein pals, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Tribadism, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 18:37:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19796707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: as it turns out, aliens make for excellent partners.





	ode to commerce

Skylla’s bare hands are rough to the touch, yet inexplicably gentle when they run along the gossamer-thin skin of your comparably petite chassis. You cling to her neck as she presses open-mouthed kisses to your lips and whispers avowals of adoration into your flushed ears. You’re swathed in her earthy scent and breathy sighs, and between heated smooches and barely-open eyes, you can barely make out the sight of the smudged makeup on her eyes. God, she’s gorgeous.  


“You doin’ okay?” she drawls into your ear, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. A shudder slithers its way down your spine. You’re doing fucking _fantastic_. Skylla smiles at your nod of affirmation. If her gaze were to turn any redder, you reckon that her pupils would morph into a pair of hearts. You hope you’re looking at her with the same intensity. She runs her hands up under your shirt, freeing you of the bothersome thing in one smooth motion.  


A wave of anxious excitement washes over you. You’ve seen each other nude before, but never in this context. Never so intimately. She thumbs at your bra strap, pulling you into another kiss. This one’s much more sordid, her tongue skimming along the inside of your mouth and her upper row of teeth lightly pricking at your lower lip. Her hands glide to the back of your bra, fiddling with the rigging for a few seconds before she manages to free you from the blasted thing. One of her hands commences to softly squeezing one of your breasts, the other caressing the small of your back. You only pull away when your mixed exhales start to sound distant and the world behind your closed eyelids begins to spin. Your lips separate with a faint _smack_ , and your eyes flutter open. She’s far too overdressed.  


Your clumsy fingers make their way to her button-up and, in their excited daze, manage to take what feels like hours to undo the first button. She chuckles, reaching for the bottom fastener. You eventually meet in the middle. She shrugs off her shirt, letting it fall unceremoniously to the arm of the loungeplank. She takes it upon herself to remove her own bra – an athletic garment the same color as her shirt – and her fair breasts jounce free of their bindings. They’re much firmer than yours, given that they’re meant to guard her heart, and her bronze nipples are nothing more than scars left over from pupation. Neither of these facts stop you from wrapping your lips around one of the buds, your hand pinching and tweaking at the other. She moans, all soft and sweet, and an aroused purr forces its way out of her throat. She pulls you closer, and you feel something thrashing about within the confines of her black jeans. You pull away from her bosom with a start. What the hell was that?  


Skylla quirks an eyebrow at your obvious confusion. You almost scoff at her expression; she’s shoved some sort of creature down her pants and yet she’s looking at you like you’re the crazy one?  


“What?” she finally sputters out. Is this some sort of bizarre alien mating ritual? “Are you hurt?”  


You shake your head, cautiously voicing your confusion to the shirtless woman you’re currently straddling. She barely stifles a cackle when you finally manage to blurt out your abomination of a question.  


“I appreciate the concern, honey, but I most certainly don’t have a slitherbeast in my jeans. It’s just– well, I’ll show you,” she shimmies her way out from under you, peeling off her chaps (you briefly wonder what they’re made of if not leather. Do vegetarian trolls still use leather?), followed by her slacks.  


You assume her undies would’ve matched her long-forgotten shirt if not for the dark patch that’s staining the crotch. She clenches her thighs together, and when they separate, a string of her arousal bridges itself between them. Finally, she hooks her left thumb into her panties, yanking them down and flushing deep bronze.  


You’re greeted by an absolute behemoth of a tentacle, writhing in the air and glistening with Skylla’s bronze precum. You’re almost startled when your clit throbs. _Almost_. You slowly reach for her bulge, silently asking for her approval. She nods, and you move your hand to wrap around it.  


She offers a breathy little whine, hazy eyes wandering all over you. She spreads her legs, lifting her hips just enough for you to spot her swollen, glistening vulva. It’s nearly analogous to a human’s, if you can manage to ignore the stark color difference and the huge, thrashing tentacle just above her clit.  


You move down towards her… nook, you think she called it? It has an inviting, musky scent, and it’s damn near impossible for you not to take a lick. You swipe your tongue up from bottom to top, taking in her taste. It’s similar to the smell, but with an added hint of copper. Simply put, it was addictive. You suck at her clit, your middle finger teasing her slit while your other hand pumps up and down her bulge. Her fingers knit themselves into your hair, her legs wrapping around your torso. Her cacophony of keens, moans, and whines sound like a well-practiced aria to you.  


You sink your middle finger into her, softly rocking it in and out. You stop suckling on her clit to lick around the base of her bulge, where her sheath is stretched around its girth, and slip another finger into her. She tightens her grip on your hair, her toes curling against your back. Her walls tighten, and just when she’s about to cum, you pull away from her. Skylla yelps at the sudden lack of stimulation.  


“Why,” she pauses, catching her breath, “Why’d you stop?” You grin slyly, shuffling out of your pants and peeling your soaked panties off. You sling a leg over her own, pin her bulge to her belly, and press your pussy against her nook.  


She throws her head back and keens as you grind your clits together. You pull her head forward by her horns and bring her into a heated, sloppy kiss, practically forcing your tongue down her throat. Your right hand reaches down to tweak at her nipple, and she’s quickly reaching her peak yet again. And once more, you pull away, revelling in her teary, frustrated eyes, and unsatisfied whines. You kiss her once more, sucking on her bottom lip, and straddle her. The tip of her bulge worms its way into you, and you shudder. It’s just slightly cooler than you, adding to the already intense sensations. You pull Skylla into a sitting position, spinning around and lifting your butt up. She gets the message, kneeling behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist, the other bracing herself against the floor.  


She pounds into you at nearly immeasurable speeds, her belly slapping against your ass and smearing brown precum all over the both of you. She buries her face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and letting out a low, shuddering moan. You nearly scream when she hits your sweet spot, fingers flying to your throbbing clit and rubbing with a primal sense of desperation. She tenses, burying herself in you as deeply as possible, and releases wave after wave of slurry into you. You pinch your clit, rolling it between your thumb and forefinger, and suddenly your own juices are gushing out of your swollen pussy, running down your inner thighs, and pooling on the hardwood beneath you. Skylla pulls out and catches you as you begin to sway off balance. She gathers you in her arms and places an affectionate kiss on your forehead.  


“How does a nice long soak in the ablution trap and a snooze in the ‘coon sound?”  


It sounds wonderful.


End file.
